


the things i didn't imagine

by fated_addiction



Category: K-pop, Real Person Fiction, Red Velvet (K-pop Band)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Romance, lapslock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-11-12 04:03:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18003458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fated_addiction/pseuds/fated_addiction
Summary: "let's talk."A series of things that don't make any sense.Or, when Wendy thinks a lot.





	the things i didn't imagine

-

 

 

 

 

"let's talk."

wendy doesn't move from the bed. hotel rooms have a particular smell. maybe it's just because she's tired.

"let's talk," irene repeats, moving to the side of the bed, and wendy blinks because wait, when did she get here. she lifts a hand over her eyes in acknowledgment and then feels the bed sink under irene's weight.

her mouth feels a little itchy. "about what?"

"i don't know. things."

"things?" wendy scoffs. she's uneasy. irritated, probably. she misses her bed. misses her mom. "my brain doesn't work right now. you're going to have to be a little more specific than that."

irene snorts. "i barely have one too. i just can't sleep."

"what's wrong?"

wendy moves her hand. talk about reactions, she thinks. her brain shifts to panic mode. is she okay? irene barely shows anything other than what fits her and the other girls in a particular moment. every irene is tailored. it would be unnerving if wendy didn't know her.

"nothing."

"you're really not good at this game." her mouth feels sour. she rolls to her side. "what's wrong?"

irene laughs. it's a sharp sound. her lips pucker and she swallows. her fists go to her face, pressing into her eyes. "it's stupid," she mumbles. "but, i was looking around today and... i feel really lonely."

"lonely?"

it's come out in a jumbled mess. "lonely," irene confirms.

"is this new? it doesn't sound new."

irene seems hesitant. "it's not new. i just didn't know how else to say it. i'm constantly surrounded by people, but i'm lonely. it's selfish, you know? but then when i go and have quiet time or meet with my friends or even my family. i'm lonely."

"i understand," wendy murmurs. she props her head up with a hand. stares at the top of irene's head. her eyes wander over a mess of super fine hairs. her fingers curl against her cheek. "there's a lot of noise," she says, "and sometimes you decide to stop in the middle of it - and then you realize that you're there and everyone else keeps moving."  
she stops. is almost startled. the words are really cheesy, she thinks. she blinks and irene is looking up at her with big, wide eyes. it's been awhile since they've talked like this.

"sorry."

"why?" irene blinks. her lips purse together. "we're just talking."

"hm."

irene hits her. "stop, whatever you're thinking."

wendy shrugs and catches her hand before the second hit, lacing their fingers together. she drops back to the pillow. drops their hands to her chest and closes her eyes.

"i'm not thinking anything," she says.

this part is never true.

 

 

 

 

the thing is, conversations with irene always sit with wendy. exposes her in a way that she totally hates.

"just a crush," she usually mutters to herself. she's not pining anyway. pining means unrequited. unrequited means it's a little heavier than she wants it to be - and no, absolutely not, will she go down this rabbit hole of feelings again. there's a reason why it's been awhile.

but miami is still hot and sticky when they arrive. even worse, the rain hits and doesn't seem to stop and god, could they just, like, go to the beach for _two seconds_?

"why are you still in the room?"

wendy turns over her bed. the suitcase is sprawled out; seulgi has the bed next to hers. her bags remained back and seulgi nowhere to be found right now.

"it's raining," she mutters. irene enters the room. sits at the edge of the bed by her suitcase and legs. she peers into wendy's suitcase curiously. "and there are only so many times i can go to the hotel gym."

irene's eyes narrow. "you should take a break."

"thanks mom," she mutters.

irene flushes. grabs her hand suddenly, startlingly. her fingers go into the back of her hand and wendy can only stare.

"sorry," irene says. "that was the flight speaking."

"can you tell her to stop?" wendy mutters and irene laughs.

it comes from a good place: irene and her hyperawareness of wendy's routines. anxiety usually leads to a walk. or working out way too hard. or singing and stretching her vocal cords because really, why did she pick this occupation to begin with.

"you okay?" she asks and takes her hand away.

irene sighs. it feels like disappointment. "same with you. i guess i'm just a little restless with the weather."

"we could go eat?"

"you're unpacking. and i'm not hungry."

"same," wendy confesses. her stomach jumps into knots. "sorry," she says too. "but that's all i got."

irene opens her mouth. then it closes. looks a little odd and like she wants to say something. wendy waits, stretching into some kind of odd pause, clutching a shirt to herself.

"what's with _you_ -"

"i have to tell you something."

they both stop. the words are a mess. both of them have some sort of delayed reaction to speaking at the same time. irene's expression changes into something serious though and wendy steels herself because she doesn't know which irene she is going to get.

then:

it happens sideways, as if that could be a thing. irene jerks forward and her knees hit wendy's leg. wendy stumbles and irene grabs her arm and in between that, her mouth presses soundly into wendy's. time does not stop. there is nothing true or behind that phrase; instead it's wendy, really wendy, that becomes acutely aware of the fact that irene is kissing her mouth _isn't_ moving, but trembling like it wants to. _how do i do this?_ neither of them ask, but there are feelings that are dredged up from somewhere behind her, the pit of her belly, ready and waiting and willing to revisit a history that wendy has totally forgotten.

"what are you doing?" wendy mumbles against irene's mouth. her lips are sticky and sweet and wendy feels her belly jump. this isn't what she thought this was going to be. the answers are there; she isn't ready.

irene drops back. her lashes are lowered. her mouth is cocked, flushed, and trembling into a frown.

"i don't know," she says.

confessions do go wrong.


End file.
